hungry gnomeshttps://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com
"the air was soon thick with flying gnomes"Sun, 01 Feb 2015 00:54:54 +0000enhourly1http://wordpress.com/https://secure.gravatar.com/blavatar/b04995965ee37dd41eb0ac0f0f18f26b?s=96&d=https%3A%2F%2Fs2.wp.com%2Fi%2Fbuttonw-com.pnghungry gnomeshttps://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com
From the Storm/Toilet Stallhttps://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com/2014/12/14/after-the-stormtoilet-stall/
https://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com/2014/12/14/after-the-stormtoilet-stall/#commentsSun, 14 Dec 2014 12:08:41 +0000http://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com/?p=2112Continue reading →]]> When ‘hungry’ refers to thousands of needs besides fantastic food (though hardly ever, really, not), and when ‘gnomes’ refer to any previously underestimated lawn creatures besides the ones on paraphernalia for the ‘quirky’, there must come a check for honesty. I think it’s time to ask the question that lives beneath the trendy subtext of this Blog New World: what the fuck? Can you ever see the storm when you’re in it? Can’t you ever talk about real shit without occupying the super-neglected toilet stall of society? Well. Generation. When has this word been so widely-spawned? It’s a bit like creativity and innovation and post-post-modernism, all of which have been solicitously manufactured into eco-friendly boxes via Amazon prime, to reach my dad’s mailbox so that I may shuffle across the street, elbow the last of the scruffy postal workers out of my way, follow the Package Key Scavenger Hunt (is it A or B?! is it a gift from two-word Jeff, our Arizona-dusted grandpa?), and scramble over the last mail person to get back inside with my goods all of it, all of this sentence (which may undoubtedly connect to any one of those Terms of the Day), to be equipped with the most efficient emptiness that, perhaps, any generation has ever come to define as living. The emptiness—I may as well follow through with being an asshole—is up for interpretation (Susan Sontag, A.O. Scott I swear I’ll honor you), though I’ll reasonably reject anything besides what I think. Chuckle. And the efficiency being “its” goddamn consistency. Consistency, reliability. Coffee drinkers. Succulent suckers. Instagram addicts. Romantic drama appreciators. NPR subscribers. Technology…titans (I don’t know). Tinder sweepers. Ice cream enthusiasts (I may or may not frame my own addictions more kindly). And this, the reliability of the “future”, from the ever-progressing neighborhoods of Seattle and the like. So. What the fuck. This question has lurked beneath my general—and in many ways localized—existence for a while. It dwells like an overstaying houseguest. The quick-witted jack-of-all-arts. Whose general life emulates social fetishes. One who waits to be redeemed by the impending, belated wave of truth that will, at last, pull us up from beneath the day. But what truths, what day? So, please, for your consideration. For a few moments. What do these people and things mean to you? Michael Brown. Congress. The tax system. Native Americans. Vacation. Art. Science. Credit. Vintage. City. Opportunity. Intelligence. Transportation. Language. Work. Future. Economics. Interdependence. Humility. Western hemisphere, culture and implications. Eastern hemisphere, culture, implications. Privilege. Vulnerability. Country. Food. Education. Ideology. Borders. Spirituality. Rights. Organic. Success. The UN. Obama. McConnell. Independence. Dependence. Immigration. Gentrification. “An Affair to Remember”. “Interstellar”. “The Hunger Games” and so on. “The Godfather”. “Harry Potter”s. “Dear White People”. “Stories We Tell”. What do you think? What’s happened, will happen? Honestly? Because I wonder how many trips to the mail box—virtual or physical—we have before anyone (can) really care about what’s inside. Let alone what’s outside. Watching Falling The bread plate broke in many triangles, in a respectable explosion: more ceramic on ceramic, entangled with my own porcelain brain, whose pieces tore at each other in an instant echo of the lavender plate, yellow yolk strewn like canary feathers—the art deco most moms wouldn’t want, art they never knew. It fell in visible spaces of time: I watched each shape separate into dust before the plate lost its wholeness and rhymed with the shards of pain in my head, the lust for all things together, for all things true; the plate needed to break to be seen through. -Bette Jane P.S. Rant is of my own thoughts, not Krisla’s or any other innocent dragged alongside me.]]>https://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com/2014/12/14/after-the-stormtoilet-stall/feed/4hungrygnomes004_4006_6007_7010_10018_18020_20024_24Sweet Potato Cinnamon Roll Cakehttps://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com/2014/11/17/sweet-potato-cinnamon-roll-cake/
https://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com/2014/11/17/sweet-potato-cinnamon-roll-cake/#commentsTue, 18 Nov 2014 02:23:41 +0000http://hungrygnomes.wordpress.com/?p=2102Continue reading →]]>

You’re probably thinking, “SAY WUT?! A vegetable in a cake?!”

It’s good. The sweet potato makes this cake moist, though slightly dense, and has a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon. The cinnamon swirl on top makes it taste just like — you guessed it — a cinnamon roll! I did add icing to the top of this cake, but I would have preferred a cream cheese frosting because let’s face it, cream cheese frosting is the only way to go when it comes to cinnamon rolls. (See my recipe for cream cheese icing here.)

I think this is best served warm, with a hot cup of coffee or milk. Or a scoop of ice cream, because ice cream makes everything better.

P.S. To explain my absence in the last 4 months, I’ve been working a couple of new jobs and have been traveling all over the country for medical school interviews. Maybe a travel post is up next, once interview season is done and over with!

Time to make the topping! Mix the softened butter, cinnamon, flour, and brown sugar until combined. Drop the mixture evenly over the top of the cake batter. Use a fork and make pretty swirls into the top of the cake by dragging the fork across the top of the batter.

Bake for 30-35 minutes.

Make the glaze/frosting! Stir all the ingredients together until you get the desired consistency. Once the cake is mostly cooled, drizzle the glaze or spread the frosting over the top of the cake.

Autumn. What a beautiful word, even, let alone the season. I think New York City is similarly synchronized in word and meaning: tall, short, tall, long, spaced, dotted, lined, new, old.

The thing is, I made this treacle tart, and it looked just delicious. I daresay I was proud as I sidled this crispy, Harry Potter- and fall-inspired dessert out of the oven. But, unlike ‘autumn’ and ‘New York City’, its presentation bears little resemblance to tart reality.

Nonetheless, it’s a union of peach, almond, ginger and treacle (minus one chink in the lattice). And I beseech the internet for a recreation that, like autumn and New York (subjectively, bien sur), isn’t all appearances.

I’d always wanted to go to France. Not for some childhood memory of sitting cross-legged in Grandma’s sewing room, requesting the same charming family backstory, wherein some great aunt wearing red lips and stripes once got lost in the south and fell in summer love with a true homme. I wanted to go because I love golden light, and starlight, and books and dessert and trees and, well, love. And that’s ‘Madeleine’ in a nutshell, right?

The web of romance, spun well and wide.

But I never really put much stock in New York City. In the idea of New York. I’m from another world.

Until I’m not!

Well, I can’t change the fact that I grew up where, how and with whom I grew up; it’s def. better to embrace these things than deny or color them. But there’s more to it all, to social power and justice. Perhaps: embrace to understand; understand to be humble; and be humble to live with expressive integrity and love in the truest, challenging senses.

So New York. I went almost on a whim, among other winds. I traveled alone, and I was never alone. I forgot about myself–I watched, listened, waited, went. Then I remembered and ate and danced passionately. And I was off again, among the rectangles and triangles and trees. It’s hard to describe.

It was a brief spell, carrying me from Washington Heights to Bushwick (in terms of futons, via AirBnB, which went wonderfully well). Things–people, cars, trains, pigeons–were direct and demanding but not as self-important as I thought they were supposed to be. Except for the pigeons: I remembered their Parisian cousins.

‘As I thought they were supposed to be’ being key.

Garry Winogrand’s work was exhibited at the Met when I visited (until today, in fact). He had much to do with the sepia tone in which I walked and now write about New York, in addition to the summation of family, friends, solitude, quiet, noise and love that comprise me. And to Edna St. Vincent Millay.

And the clammy, disheveled appearances that I made between the subway and the unsuspecting streets (a.k.a., Touristing by Bette Jane, from trying to find ‘Fashion Week’ to the giveaway response in face of ‘pardon-the-interruption’ speeches for spare change–to be fair, locals and visitors alike humored the latter).

In relation to tarts, and carrying on with my pondering more fruitfully, J.K. Rowling’s ‘Harry Potter’ series has, quite genuinely, befriended me again. Movies aside. It’s really incredible reading these books with an eye open for mythology, for theology, for clever (maybe simple? Though I don’t think so) plot devices, for character, for prevailing Western culture, for subtle challenges to it, for simple goodness…soon enough, I dusted off my ‘Unofficial Harry Potter Cookbook’ and indulged Harry’s favorite: treacle tart.

However! Treacle is not as obvious in the U.S. as in the U.K. Light molasses, or dark corn syrup? Because ‘golden syrup’ is truly m.i.a. from the fluorescent grocery stores near me. So I settled with dark corn syrup, wishing for the molasses almost immediately. I also opted for oats instead of bread crumbs, because goodness, how dense. My peaches were too ripe, or too small. And my top layer, as previously pointed out, was one row short of really making lattice status. I also think finely grated fresh ginger would have blended more favorably than ground.

Alas, our failures are wonderful, and just as necessary as (if a binary at all)…triumphs. Myes. And autumn and New York City and reflecting on it all.

Combine the flour, ground almonds, sugar, and salt in a large mixing bowl. Using a pastry cutter, two knives, or your fingertips, cut the butter into the flour until the flour is completely coated with fat; in other words, no white powdery flour remains and the mixture resembles coarse yellow meal. Or pulse in a food processor 15 to 20 times until the mixture resembles coarse yellow meal, and then transfer it to a large mixing bowl.

Beat the egg yolk with the cream and vanilla and pour it into the flour-butter mixture. Toss with a spatula until the dough clumps together, then knead briefly. Form ⅓ of the dough into one disk and the remaining ⅔ of the dough into another. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate at least 2 hours or up to 3 days.

Preheat the oven to 350F. Remove the larger disk from the refrigerator and sprinkle both sides generously with flour. On a heavily flour-dusted work surface, roll out the dough to an 11-inch circle. Fit the dough into a 9-inch tart pan and press in the bottom and sides. This dough is very, very hard to work with, but it’s also very forgiving, especially if you use margarine in place of the butter (sacrificing some flavor, but oh, well). You can gather it up, knead it, and reroll several times without its becoming tough. If it gets too soft, put it back in the fridge to firm up.

Lay the thinly sliced peaches on the bottom of the tart. Warm the golden syrup in the microwave or a small saucepan just until it’s runny. Combine the golden syrup, bread crumbs, chopped almonds, and ginger in a mixing bowl and mix well. Scrape the mixture into the tart shell and spread it evenly over the peach slices with a rubber spatula.

Remove the smaller disk from the refrigerator and sprinkle both sides generously with flour. On a heavily flour-dusted work surface, roll out the dough ⅛-inch thick. Cut the dough into strips with a sharp knife. Lay half the strips over the tart in one direction and lay the other half over the tart in the opposite direction to form a lattice. Don’t try weaving the strips. Just laying them down will be hard enough, as the strips may break as you move them and you’ll have to keep fixing and patching.

Brush the strips with the beaten egg and bake the tart for 45 minutes, until golden brown. Serve with blackberry ice cream! It brings out the best in even the densest, silliest of accidents to be called a treacle tart.

From the books: Harry is having a nasty turn. It’s no fun seeing into Voldemort’s mind. About to be really sick, he gets up from the table abruptly. Kreacher, out of newfound concern for his master, offers him treacle tart (see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallow, Chapter 12).

-Bette Jane

P.S. forgive the light leaks if they’re headache-inducive. I’m off-and-on about them; it depends on the picture, of course. Also, feel free to follow me on Instagram at @bayjane for less harangue-like instances of my ways.

That’s what typically goes through my head whenever ice cream is within a mile radius.

I concocted this coconut ice cream with candied ginger pieces with the intent to make ice cream floats using ginger beer. Have you guys had ginger beer? It’s amazing. I had it for the first time on my flight to Australia last year and it’s my new favorite carbonated drink. Ginger ale used to be my favorite, but now my taste buds find it too tame and lackluster in comparison. (Once you go ginger beer, you never go back, right?)

Anyways, I tried this ice cream float idea with Reed’s Ginger Brew and… it was disappointing. Reed’s has a citrusy undertone that just didn’t go well with the coconut flavor. Culinary experiment fail. I still think the ginger beer floats is a good idea. I just need to find the right kind of beer.

But not to worry, this ice cream is delicious as is. It’s creamy, easy to make, and has chewy, spicy bites of ginger. And it goes very well with these chocolate dipped cones :)

Coconut Candied Ginger Ice Cream

Makes about 1 quart of ice cream

Ingredients:

1 can (14 oz) coconut cream

1 cup heavy cream

1 cup milk ( I used 2%)

1/2 cup of granulated sugar

1 tsp vanilla extract

1/3 cup of candied ginger, diced into very small pieces ( I used the uncrystallized one from Trader Joe’s)

Directions:

In a large bowl, whisk the coconut cream, heavy cream, milk, sugar, and vanilla extract in a bowl.

Chill the mixture for a couple hours, this will make it easier to freeze in the ice cream maker.

Pour the mix into your ice cream maker as instructed.

When the ice cream is almost done, mix in the candied ginger.

Freeze for at least 6 hours, as needed.

For the ice cream cones: Melt a little coconut oil and chocolate chips together, dip, and coat in some toasted coconut flakes.

This summer I drive an ice cream truck. To say the least, I have an imaginatively long list of food-inspiration that begins and ends with, well, ice cream. But along the way there is a–forgive any loss of meaning that this overused term has struggled with–classic.

Can’t resist: presto, pesto!

Meet the Jeep, my summer companion and death-box of heat.

Pesto is so simple, yet complex in flavor. There’s something…venerable about it even in taste.

total time involved: 15 minutes, unless you’re out of garlic and have to run over to a produce stand, in which case, about 30 minutes

Ingredients:

2 cups fresh basil leaves, packed

1/3 cup pine nuts or walnuts

3 medium sized garlic cloves, minced

1/2 cup freshly grated Romano or Parmesan cheese

1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil

salt and pepper, to taste

Directions:

Combine the basil in with the pine nuts, pulse a few times in a food processor. If you’re using walnuts instead of pine nuts and they are not already chopped, pulse them a few times first, before adding the basil.

Add the garlic and cheese and pulse a few times more.

Slowly add the olive oil in a constant stream while the food processor is on. Stop to scrape down the sides of the food processor with a rubber spatula.

It means remembering how long I waited to pull my carrots up. Laughing at the image of me bending over the wire fence to give the rotten carrots to Poppy, the 30-year-old blind horse in the backyard, and to mean-mug Misty, the squat little sass with ’80s metal hair that supposedly passes as mini-horse.

Ah, it means accepting the fact that commuting to school takes approximately thrice the time it takes to make a blog post…yet…

April is one of my favorite times of the year. Do you know why? Seattle Restaurant Week. Also known as “A Frugal Seattle Foodie’s Chance to Feast at High-End Restaurants”. Three-course dinners for 28 bucks? Sign me up. It’s like getting an appetizer and dessert at these restaurants FO’ FREE.

This time around, I went to a restaurant of Tom Douglas, one of Seattle’s prominent restauranteurs, called Palace Kitchen and a seafood restaurant called The Flying Fish. At both restaurants, I chose panna cotta for dessert, a dessert that I’ve never tried before. Palace Kitchen’s version was a malted chocolate panna cotta served with cookies and hot fudge. The Flying Fish version was a vanilla bean panna cotta with strawberry mango syrup. This dessert is very popular on SRW menus, probably because it is so versatile and is one of the easiest desserts ever, with only a few ingredients and little technique. The only key is finding a recipe with the right gelatin to cream ratio. To get a softer, pudding-like texture, you will need to use less gelatin. For a firmer set, use more gelatin. For you scientists out there, it’s just like making a 5% versus 10% agarose gel for electrophoresis. Except it tastes better (I’m assuming) and it’s sans ethidium bromide so it won’t give you cancer. Win! Since I like the less-firm set, I found the appropriate ratio to be about 4 cups cream/milk to 1 tbsp of gelatin. But you can always experiment, of course:)

I experimented with flavors and made a coconut lavender variety. It’s light and floral. Perfect for spring, eh?

Coconut Lavender Panna Cotta (Vegan)

Makes 4-6 servings, Total Prep Time: 4 hours

Ingredients:

2 cups coconut cream

1 1/2 tsp gelatin (use an equal amount of agar-agar powder or a kosher gelatin for a vegan recipe)

1/4 cup of granulated sugar

1/2 tsp dried edible lavender

1/2 tsp vanilla extract

1/4 cup cold water

4-6 ramekins, lightly greased

Directions:

In a small bowl, mix gelatin and cold water together and let it sit for approximately 5 minutes.

In a saucepan, heat the coconut cream, sugar, and lavender together over medium heat, stirring often, for about 15 minutes. This allows the lavender to infuse into the coconut cream and for the sugar to completely dissolve. Avoid letting the mixture boil.

Add the gelatin/water mixture to the cream and heat for about 2-3 more minutes, constantly stirring and making sure the gelatin is completely dissolved.

Take the mixture off the heat and stir in the vanilla extract.

Pour the mixture into the lightly greased ramekins. You can also strain the mixture first if you want to get rid of the lavender, depending on how potent your lavender is. Allow the ramekins to cool to room temperature, then cover and let them set in the fridge for at least 3 hours. The mixture will still be runny at room temp FYI.

When ready to serve, let the ramekin sit in a bowl of hot water for about 20-30 seconds and run a knife around the edges. Flip the panna cotta onto a fancy plate and serve! I garnished with some honey (agave syrup, if vegan) and lavender buds.

This is not my first go at baking fresh bread. I’ve tried before but my bread has always turned out a little too tough or did not rise as well as I’d hope. But one of my coworkers, an avid baker, showed me this recipe for no-knead bread that was posted on the New York Times years ago. It’s been advertised as “so easy a four-year-old can do it!” That means I can do it too, right?

I had to give it a shot and put a spin of my own on it by adding a little roasted garlic, toppings, and extra salt. And it was a glorious success! Check out those beautiful air pockets!

The key to this bread is the high water to flour ratio and it’s long rising time. The wet dough uses time (hours and hours) to glutenize the flour instead of mechanically working the dough. The result is a crusty bread with a chewy center with barely any effort at all. Seriously, you touch the dough for maybe a total of 10 minutes.

Top left: Dough after mixing. Top right: Dough after long rise. Bottom left: Dough after folding. Bottom right: Dough after resting, right before baking.

The steps to this versatile recipe are simple: mix, cover, let it sit. Fold, cover, let it sit. Cover, bake, uncover, let it sit. I made a delicious grilled cheese sandwich with gouda, pesto, and a little stoneground mustard. Heaven in my mouth.

P.S. Due to the high water content the bread crust tends to lose its crunch after sitting overnight. But that’s alright. That’s what ovens and toasters are for.

1/2 cup of various toppings (I used poppy seeds, sunflower seeds, fried onions, and sesame seeds for the top of the bread. Cornmeal for the bottom.)

1 large (6-qt) oven-safe pot with lid (use one that can withstand 450 degrees F and is at least 4 inches high)

Directions:

In a large mixing bowl, mix the flour, water, salt, and yeast together with your hands until just combined. It won’t look pretty but that’s alright. The dough will also be quite sticky. Cover with plastic wrap and let it sit in a warm place for at least 8 hours (and up to 20 hours). I store it in the oven overnight.

The dough is ready when it has expanded, and the top has little holes scattered over it. Dump the dough out on a floured surface using a spatula or your hands to pull the stringy, weblike dough away from the bowl. The dough should come together easily and feel pillowy and light.

Gently flatten the dough slightly with your hands and place the roasted garlic cloves on top. Then fold the dough in half twice (along the imaginary vertical line and the horizontal line. Gently tuck in the edges of the dough so that it forms a nice round dome.

On a large piece of parchment paper, dump the toppings on and spread it evenly on the paper. Place the round ball of dough onto the toppings (if you want to omit the toppings, use flour). Place the parchment paper with the dough in a large bowl. Cover with a towel and let the dough rest for about 2 hours until the dough has doubled in size.

During the last 30 min of resting, place the covered pot into the oven and preheat the oven to 450 degrees F. When the oven and pot are ready, sprinkle the top of the dough with some cornmeal (this will be the bottom of the bread). Flip the blob of dough into the pot and shake the pot a few times to distribute the dough evenly in the pot. Cover the pot and bake for 30 min.

Uncover the pot and bake for another 15-20 minutes until the top is golden brown and the bread sounds hollow when you tap on it.

Let the bread cool before cutting into it. It will crackle while it cools!

Non-dairy beverages are coming in all sorts of fascinating forms. My mom is a hemp milk drinker (after a series of explanation on its not having THC properties); my sister gets down with coconut; plenty of people get their liquid oat on; and I really love almond milk.

A friend with nut allergies walked into our kitchen the other day, expertly scouted the area, and murmured:

“I hear you’re milkin’…”.

My partner, Michael, and I ventured over to Whidbey Island the other Friday. It is an escape that I am singularly grateful for: the too-obvious opportunity for reenactments of “Titanic”.

We did not enjoy: Michael’s car being not at all meant for pothole-laden gravel roads (I did not enjoy; he enthusiastically pursued), early closure times, homework, the bumper sticker “Piss off a liberal: buy a gun”.

Liberalism is “of the individual”. This imaginary divide!

Perhaps unification and the (true) liberation of veiled ideology can be found in the common needs of subsistence.

Crack nuts if in such form until you have one cup’s worth. Fight the tedium.

Soak nuts with in a jar, bowl, whathaveyou, with about an inch of water-coverage (I ended up using a bit more water than that). Do so for up to two days. This is a recommended process according to your preference: the longer the soak, the creamier the milk. I waited two days and actually might experiment with one and a half for oatmeal-related milk-purposes; Michael found it as potent as cream in his coffee.

Upon desired soak, rinse the almonds in a colander.

Blend with two cups fresh water for at least two minutes.

I am less than committed to this step as well — Green Kitchen Stories advised lining a colander with a cheesecloth or nut bag (I don’t know where to track down the latter) and then strain the milk.

You’ll need to squeeze the cloth/bag with all your delicate might until the milk is thoroughly filtered. I struggled with strainin’. My almond meal was quite thick, and proved an obstacle until I forewent the colander and just used the cheesecloth. Even then, though, things were thick and my milk proved to be just slightly gritty (not detrimentally). I am going to hunt down a nut bag. But, anyway, I salvaged the almond meal and intend to make bars or a tart with it.

Add spices, if you please. My almond milk was particularly almond-y. Vanilla bean innards could make for an excellent flavor pairing/neutralizer.

Seal in a mason jar. Certain sources state that homemade nut milk can last for up to two days, other for four to five. Mine did fine for nearly a week.

Stir in with coffee, tea, oatmeal, buckwheat or any other translated milk situations!

Hmm I struggled with the title of this. I don’t know what is the grammatically correct way to write “pretzel dog/pretzel-dog/pretzeldog”. If I just leave a space between “pretzel” and “dog”, it’s misleading because it may seem like I am providing a recipe for dog-shaped pretzels. And if I write “pretzeldog” it leaves that horrid red squiggly line underneath indicating a misspelled word, which is just plain annoying. I’ll go with the dashed variety.

Ketchup. Ketchup is my favorite of the basic condiments. Mustard… eh. Relish… it’s alright. I often have these late night hankerings for foods that involve ketchup (namely chicken nuggets). Mike can vouch for this. When it hits about 12 AM during our late night conversations, I will almost certainly ask him, “Do you know what sounds good right now?” And because he knows me all too well, he’ll respond, “Chicken nuggets.”

This isn’t a recipe for chicken nuggets. But I thought I’d mix it up a bit. So for my late night cravings, I made these mini hotdogs wrapped in yummy pretzel dough. Usually, recipes with yeast tend to deter me, but this recipe is actually quite easy! Also, I realize that this would have been a perfect Super Bowl item but… I’m a tad bit too late.

In a mixing bowl, combine warm water and sugar. Add the yeast, letting it froth and foam for about 5 minutes.

Add the melted butter, salt, and flour and mix on low until all the ingredients just combine. Increase the speed to medium and knead the dough for about 5 minutes. The dough should ball up and be smooth. It should be soft and pliable and slightly sticky.

Remove the dough from the bowl and lightly grease the bowl. Put the ball of dough back, lightly flour the top, and let it rise in a warm place for about an hour.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit. In a large pot, boil the 14 cups of water and baking soda. Line two baking pans with parchment paper and grease.

While the water is boiling, remove the dough and place on a lightly greased surface. Cut the dough into eighths. Going from the center moving out, roll a piece of dough until it is about 2 feet long and about 1 cm in diameter. Cut the piece of dough into thirds. Each piece will be used to wrap the little hotdog.

Wrap each hotdog, making sure the ends are sealed. Repeat until all hotdogs are wrapped.

Gently drop the wrapped hotdogs into the boiling water and boil for 30 seconds. (This will cause the pretzels to puff up and also allows for a rapid browning process due to the basicity of the water, giving us a chewy inside and a brown outside when baked for a relatively short amount of time.)

Remove the pretzels from the water with a slotted spatula and place on the baking pan. Brush the top with the egg wash and sprinkle with black pepper. (I also added sesame seeds!)